The three of us sat in heavy silence, the weight of the moment thickening the air around us. Rodrigo, his brow furrowed, and eyes glazed with disbelief, sat hunched over with his hands pressed firmly against his face as if trying to shield himself from the reality that his wife was gone forever. I could feel the tension radiating from him, a mixture of shock and devastation that seemed almost palpable.
Eva, seated beside him, remained motionless, her expression a blend of concern and sorrow as she observed the painful scene unfolding before her. She cast glances between Rodrigo and the ground, her silence amplifying the grief that filled the room.
After what felt like an eternity, Rodrigo finally moved his hands away from his face. Just as he did, an ear-shattering sound broke through the oppressive quiet—a sudden crash from the outside, followed by a sharp exclamation. It was a shocking moment that snapped us all into reality, pulling us from our tormented thoughts.
A bullet cleanly entered the left side of Rodrigo's head.
His head slammed onto the floor, blood slowly coming out from the bullet hole.
Time moved slowly for me as I sat there, immobilized, staring at his lifeless body sprawled on the cold, hardwood floor. Confusion and disbelief flooded my mind as I tried to wrap my head around the chaos that had just unfolded. The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood and the lingering echoes of gunfire.
Suddenly, I felt a strong hand grip my shirt, yanking me with urgency, and pulling me backward toward the safety of the couch. My heart raced, pounding in my chest like a drum, the adrenaline coursing through my veins igniting a primal survival instinct.
Then, out of nowhere, a second bullet whizzed past, striking the floor mere inches from my feet with a sharp crack that resonated through the room. Time seemed to snap back into focus, and the horrifying reality hit me: someone was firing at us, each shot a reminder of the deadly game we were caught in.
Instinctively, I dove behind the couch, its worn fabric offering scant protection against the unseen threat. I could feel the rough carpet against my skin as I curled up, my breath quickening, desperate to stay hidden from the sniper lurking in the shadows.
“What the fuck was that?!” Eva yelled.
I tried to get a look at where the bullets were coming from, but as I poked my head around the couch, a bullet would strike the ground as if it were a warning not to look.
“Can't you use your Sandevistan and kill this guy?” Eva asked.
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“Oh, that’s a great suggestion, Eva. Let me slow down time and shoot at a sniper whose location I don't fucking know!... Sorry.” I replied with sarcasm and anger.
All we could do was stay behind the couch and wait for the sniper fire to stop. What felt like hours had passed until there was only silence. I poked my head around the couch and waited for a bullet to strike the floor, but there wasn't one.
“...It’s clear!”
Eva emerged from behind the couch and walked over to the window while I took a closer look at Rodrigo’s dead body. Eva noticed three small holes in the window before she could inspect any further; we could hear police sirens in the distance slowly closing in on our location.
“Shit the badges, we’ve got to delta,” I said, knowing that it would be a bad decision to stay here.
Eva nodded determinedly, and we hurried outdoors to brainstorm our next move.
“We need to split up. Let’s meet back at the metro station in fifteen minutes; just make sure you’re on time,” she instructed firmly before revving up her motorcycle and took off.
I watched her sleek figure disappear down the street for a moment, then climbed into my car and drove off in the opposite direction.
As I approached the metro station, I caught a glimpse of Eva’s motorcycle parked at the curb—she was already there, one step ahead of me.
Stepping into the bustling metro, the familiar smell of metal and concrete hit me as I scanned the platform. There she was, standing with her arms crossed, waiting with an intensity that hinted at the urgency of our mission.
“So, are you going to tell me why we’re here?” I asked, curiously.
The atmosphere buzzed with the sound of commuters rushing by.
“Someone wanted him dead... Did he have any enemies?” Eva inquired, her voice low yet sharp as if she were piecing together a puzzle in her mind.
To be honest, I had no solid answers. “It wouldn’t be surprising if he didn’t have any enemies; after all, he was a wealthy, powerful businessman married to a stunningly beautiful young wife. Wouldn’t be surprised if people were jealous, why? Do you think someone wanted him dead?” I replied, recalling the whispers I’d heard in certain circles.
“That’s what I'm trying to piece together... Something deeper is at play here,” she mused, glancing at the flickering lights of the approaching train. “I’ll be in touch...”
I frowned, confused by her cryptic words. “What are you talking about? Where are you going?”
“You know you ask too many questions, you know that.” she said with a slight smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“I’ll explain everything when the time is right. Just trust me okay. In the meantime, go some gigs for some people, I’ll be in touch.” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. Before I could respond, she turned and melted into the crowd, leaving me standing at the platform contemplating on what to do next.
